


Oneiromancy

by wilyasha



Series: Firewall [13]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Identity Reveal, Manipulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-03
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2019-01-08 09:25:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12251565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilyasha/pseuds/wilyasha
Summary: Matt Holt never felt more uncomfortable around his dad as he did in the Galra cell.





	1. Delirium

**Author's Note:**

> This entire series really diverges from the canon timeline and ventures into AU territory. This series also kind of plays into that theory that maybe, just maybe, the Galaxy Garrison isn't as trustworthy as they seem. I mean Iverson had, like, no qualms about a blue mechanical lion flying in GG space, so yeah. 
> 
> Content Warnings: No content warnings. If you need something tagged, don't hesitate to tell me.

“I’m not disappointed in you, son,” says the peculiar alien in front of him. “I always knew you were suited for the druidic sciences. Shiro _is_ the gladiator.”

Matt Holt is not surprised. There is the overwhelming initial shock. He always believed in extraterrestrial life. There are vast possibilities that far away societies progressed forward like humanity or adapted even faster to what the cosmos threw at them. What he did not believe was the fact that he could have been one of them.

The alien in front of him has light purple skin, but there is no denying that he’s looking into the face of his father. Light brown hair does not distract Matt from the poisonous yellow eyes watching him in a critical, detached way. It’s like the alien is examining him, preparing him for the reveal of his grandest experiment. He isn’t expecting to see his father this soon… not like this. Matt and Shiro had been dragged off to the gladiatorial arena with some other alien prisoners, but his father had been taken in the opposite direction. The guards claimed that he was going to be sent to a work camp, but even their words sounded false to his ears. Now he knows why.

“What are you?” Matt asks. He squints up at the man he’s known all his life. How can he be suspicious of the man who raised him?

His dad gives him a tight-lipped smile. Instead of feeling warmth in his chest from the familiar expression, Matt recoils away. His black bodysuit sticks to his sweaty skin uncomfortably and the violet-gray tunic feels heavy and worn. What he would give for some sweatpants and a baggy shirt…

“I’m a citizen of the Galra Empire, sent to Earth to oversee and influence humanity’s governments for the past three decades,” Samuel Holt pauses, “as well as proceed with experiments as ordered by my Emperor’s advisor and council.”

“Are you… are you even my real dad?” Matt’s words catch in his throat like the dry, mealy bread they gave him hours ago.

Sam cocks his head to the side, pursing his lips before giving him a grin full of pointy teeth. “I would hope so. I did impregnate Colleen twice.”

The alien’s words sound too clinical, as if he was studying his family like he was examining the ice samples from Kerberos. Matt shivers. A rush of cool air percolates through the room and the hairs on the back of his neck raise. 

“Why are you purple?” The junior science officer asks. “Why do you look like that? Are you some sort of chameleon alien species? And if you’re my dad would that make me—”

“Half-Altean,” Sam drawls. “You and Katie are half-Altean. And yes, we are a shapeshifting species. It allows us to blend in with alien societies, such as the Earthlings. Members of the Galra Empire have been arriving on this planet for centuries. From my data, we first arrived when they were banging sticks against rocks and chanting to their satellite and star.” He’s so full of condescension it makes Matt sick to his stomach. “ _Presently_ , we’ve taken over many of the Galaxy Garrison outposts, communicating back and forth with the Empire.” Sam stops speaking, as if he’s gotten ahead of himself. “I think that is enough for now.” 

He nods at the guards behind Matt. 

“Wait!” Matt stalls. “Wait! Where do you all come from? What’s the Galra Empire? You don’t look like those other aliens? Like that reptile commander!”

“Your answers will come later, son,” Sam waves his hand. “I’m sending you to my station. I’ll come to you later.”

Guards are tugging him out of the room, but his heart beats wildly beneath his chest. Something doesn’t feel right. Like he didn't pass some sort of test and his dad is _now_ disappointed.

“Wait! Dad!” Matt yanks at the metal arms clutching his organic ones. “Does Mom know? Does Mom know what you are?”

A small smile climbs up the alien’s face. “Of course not.”

\--

When Matt was ten, he walked in on his dad shaving. Peeking around the doorway, he watched him smear cream on his face with a shaving brush. He watched him place the three-blade razor against his face. He recalls the strange appearance of a washed-out purple color at his jaw. He thought nothing of it at the time, perhaps a bruise caused by a sparring partner at the gym or a scrape from the razor’s blades. But now he realizes, the mask had been slipping.

Matt paces the length of his cell. It has a bed and a private water closet. There’s an alien datapad resting on the small desk in the corner. He turned it on, but he couldn’t read the language appearing on the illuminated screen. It may be his personal quarters, but he knows it’s really a jail cell. 

He keeps thinking of his father and the most discombobulated thoughts bloom like rotten fruit. Going to Kerberos was a pickup. It had to be. Why else would his father have vouched for him, a junior science officer, to come with him on a high-ranking science retrieval mission? And why drag Shiro into it? Did Sam Holt just need one of the Garrison’s best pilots or was it for more nefarious reasons? What had his friend done to be labeled a gladiator?

Although he feels guilt rising in his gullet, Matt is grateful that Shiro shoved him aside and pretended to be some bloodlust-fueled monster. He doesn’t know if he could have fought the beast that was Shiro’s opponent. He doesn’t even know how Shiro managed it himself. And after the match, he was separated from his friend and moved. 

Matt shakes his head, sitting on the bed and sagging his shoulders forward. He’s an alien. Katie is an alien. Aliens _actually_ exist and they aren’t some nice creatures sent to help them protect Earth. They are invaders. They’ve been watching and waiting and even training humans. Matt tries to recall the proper protocol they were taught at the Galaxy Garrison. It was a first contact protocol course which usually held a small class of eight people each semester. Hardly no one took it. Cadets called it a program on how to not piss off an alien. Professor Montgomery, the most artsy instructor at the Garrison, was enthusiastic and humorous when talking about what it would be like to meet extraterrestrials. She almost made it seemed fun, but far-fetched. However, the class didn’t cover what to expect if the aliens were already on the planet.

“Is she one of them, too?” Matt mutters to himself.

His mind races and he feels befuddlement bubble to the surface. Shiro has been the closest friend he’s ever had, especially after graduating from the Galaxy Garrison's academy. And he just left Shiro to take the brunt of it. The guilt sours in his stomach. Matt eyes the datapad for a moment. Perhaps if he could read that strange language, he’d be able to find something on these people or hack into something.

But with all his talent and hobbies pertaining to science and technology, Matt knows he doesn’t have any tools. The robot guards made sure of that and he doesn’t doubt his father had something to do with it. 

The doors suddenly slide open, the frosted glass turning transparent before disappearing all together. Matt watches as his dad walks in, flanked by two other aliens in shrouds.

“I spent a lot of effort raising you and your sister to become better than what Earth has to offer. You both are Alteans, loyal to the Galra Empire,” Sam Holt begins. 

Matt narrows his eyes. “I’m a human, like my mother. I don’t look like _whatever_ you are.” He’s almost startled by the venom in his own tone. “Whatever you’re going to offer, I want no part in it. Let me and Shiro go.”

His dad purses his lips in distaste. “That’s the wrong answer, son. There is opportunity here. Humans always want to be a part of something bigger than themselves. Katie has clung on to that ideology. And when she’s ready, I’ll bring her here, too.”

“How are you going to do that if the Galaxy Garrison thinks that you’re dead along with Shiro and I,” he mumbles under his breath. But he already knows the answer. His dad isn’t the only alien on Earth. There are probably more. It fills him with blistering rage; just the thought of Katie being abducted by some purple, people-eater sends his instincts spiraling. 

“What about Mom?” Matt asks. “Will you bring her here, too?”

For once his father looks uncomfortable. He draws his eyebrows together in thought, his throat working with some fresh lie to tell him. Matt takes the opportunity to continue.

“She loves you and you’re just going to abandon her there,” Matt says. “You’re going to just take her kids from her.”

Sam’s lips form a thin line. 

“Your choice, Matthew,” he says. “Join the druids and learn everything there is to know about this reality. Or a prison cell until you come to your senses.”

Matt clenches his fists. He didn’t sign up for this. He didn’t join the Galaxy Garrison to be on some foreign space ship being abducted by his alien father. He wants to explore space, to find new life forms being birthed on icy satellites and dusty planets. He wants to observe the universe from a safe distance, not to be thrust into this new world that is blindingly suffocating and smelling of pungent ozone. 

He can’t guarantee the safety of his mother and sister. He can’t guarantee the safety of Shiro or the boyfriend Shiro left behind on Earth. But he can guarantee that he can put some sort of halt in his father’s plans. 

“I’ll choose the cell.”


	2. Archetype

Matt wakes up to the vision of an alien with the face of a remora looking down at him. Their large, watery eyes blink owlishly. A gaping maw secretes excess saliva from the corners of their lips, dribbling down their fibrous tattooed chin. Matt is never going to get too accustomed to this many outlandish faces. 

On creaking joints, he props himself up on his elbows. The back of his head throbs with the shift in position and his chest feels like he’s been hit by a truck. Matt tries to recall the last twenty-four hours. With a dawning despair, he remembers how he’s spent nearly two years in a Galra cell. Only taken out to do laborious work within a construction site alongside other prisoners. He remembers transferring to other construction arenas, his hands becoming rough and calloused as the days waned. He was expected to be called back to his father’s base, stationed in the cells until they needed prisoners for another project. But all he remembers of his most recent moments is the blast of an air duct, dusty smoke, and supple hands grabbing at him. He remembers running. And plasma cannons firing down a corridor, his nose hairs singed by the ricocheting smell.

The sudden thought sends him into a coughing fit, his mouth dry and tongue heavy.

“Where am I?” Matt asks, blearily. 

The alien speaks like they are already underwater, gurgling as bubbles froth at their lips. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now! The Galra can’t hurt you here. You seemed to have collapsed after you were transferred to the shuttle. You Earthlings are surprisingly heavy for your density. You can meet our leaders later, once you finish healing.” The alien takes a pause to wipe at their mouth with the back of their ridged hand.

Matt scrunches up his nose, grimacing in mild disgust. He almost wants to offer him a tissue or something. 

“How… what happened?” he asks instead.

“You don’t remember?”

“I was in a cell,” Matt says, thinking aloud. “I remember me and a bunch of prisoners were being transferred to a different base soon. Something strange had happened and they needed the extra room for more prisoners.” Matt tries to recall more, but everything is hazy. The guards’ words were so distorted from the opposite side of the cell wall. But they kept repeating something. It had obviously been causing them grief. What the hell was it? His head keeps throbbing, more so now that he struggles to remember. And then finally, it clicks. “The guards were talking about Voltron. They kept saying _Voltron_.”

More bubbles froth at the alien’s lips and they swipe at their mouth again. “We are not in contact with the Legendary Defender, but they are gaining more traction against the Galra.”

“Legendary Defender?”

“Yes,” the alien gurgles. They scuttle across the floor on unsteady feet, like their species isn’t truly suited to be out of the water. The alien grabs something from an adjacent table. 

Matt takes the moment to look around the room. It’s a poorly constructed medical bay with screen curtains for privacy and dated machinery, some of it rusted and nonoperational. The room is eerily silent like none of the other cots are occupied. Or perhaps his rescuers don’t really use this place often and placed him here for safe keeping. He hasn’t been handcuffed or tied down, but he doesn’t doubt what could happen. Despite the alien’s friendliness, the universe seems unforgiving at times and not at all in his favor. 

The alien scuttles back to Matt, handing him an outdated looking console with a small screen and two large dials. The alien nods over to him as if he should instinctively know how to use the technology. Slowly, Matt turns both dials in opposite directions until they can go no farther. The screen flickers to life before winking out. 

The alien shakes their head, sighing so loudly that a large bubble forms and pops at their lips. The excess saliva doesn’t deter them, as they grab the console. Wildly shaking it, the screen blinks back to life. He briefly taps at the screen. Placing the console back into his hands, Matt half-expects to see a video or a simulation. Instead he just sees a shoddy image of a robotic figure battling what looks like several Galra cruisers, a large sword held in its hands. 

“This is Voltron?” Matt chuckles. 

His light laughter doesn’t affect the alien. Instead, they smile back at him, “The Legendary Defender returns.”

Matt dials through the photographs. The first is another of Voltron fighting a few cruisers. It is followed by an image of the robot on a sandy world, a brilliant white castle sitting far off in the background. The third photo is of five mechanical lions in various states of battle. It is the fourth photo that causes him to freeze, for his jaw to drop and his heart to beat erratically within his chest. His expression must startle the medic because the alien peers at the image, too. 

“Oh, yes,” they gurgle. “We’ve been having one of our people track the Lions, but sometimes we can’t keep up with their technology. We did track them down at a swap moon some time ago. It’s like a shopping outpost, anyways those are just a few of them. We lost sight of them for the past few phoebs, but they still fight.” The alien pauses. "They’re rather small to be piloting the Lions, right?”

Matt sees Shiro’s boyfriend with his usual pouty scowl and three other faces that look unfamiliar. But it’s the image of his sister that causes a pulsing ache to seal itself behind his eyes. Her hair is cut short, wide eyes skewed by familiar round glasses that shakes him to his core. His sister is alive. His sister is in space. She’s a part of this Legendary Defender. 

_“Humans always want to be a part of something bigger than themselves. Katie has clung on to that ideology. And when she’s ready, I’ll bring her here, too.”_

His father’s words block out the remnants of his headache. These aliens have been tracking down Voltron. They speak about Voltron as if it is a hero, as if it is something they strive to replicate. His rescuers must know more about these Lions and the people who pilot them. 

Matt turns to the alien and for once they aren’t drooling. Instead, their watery gaze is gentle and kind, as if they know something has stirred Matt awake.

“Tell me more.”


End file.
